Something tightened in my chest. It made me realize how different we were from each other. How I didn't deserve to be with her, how she deserved more. How our differences might break us apart someday. How the people I wanted to get close to me always left, with an exception of a very few. I wanted her to stay. Desperately wanted her to stay. I glanced at my watch. 7:59 am. When the hell is she coming? A slow grin spread across my face as I heard the bold acceleration of a car, then the hum of it as it turned on my drive way. When I looked up, she was there, cracking the car window open, smiling at me. Every dark thought in my head disappeared. "Morning, Bigfoot," she called out. I didn't say a word. I couldn't. I walked to her car, got in, threw our backpacks in the backseat. And just looked. Looked at her. Her eyes had that sparkle that said I'm going to get you in trouble. Spitfire, I thought, I'm already in trouble. Her eyes were darker green today, more than brown. She was wearing my sweater—the one I had made her wear the first time she picked me up. I thought about easing it up, revealing her inch by inch. Teasing her, sucking her skin and leaving pink marks, until she begged for more. Or until I begged for more. "Breakfast?" I asked. "Done. You?" "Ah, I see. You want me for breakfast?" I teased. Her eyes widened in surprise before her lips stretched into a smirk. "You're easy. 'Kay, jump on a plate. I'll eat you." I laughed. God, I missed her. "I'm wearing your sweater." She sliced her hands up in the air, displaying my sweater like it was some kind of prize. "I know," I said. "Looks good on you." Looks even better without. "What did you do last night?" she asked. She might blush if I told her what I did last night. It included a picture of her in my mind. And my hand. She fluttered her lashes at me. "Come on, tell me." I'd rather show you. I reached for her because it was unbearable not to. My fingers fisted in her soft hair, the scent of peaches permeating the air, before they stroked down her neck. She closed her eyes, offering her lips to me. I held her like that for a moment, my gaze hungrily taking her in, and tortured us both as I placed a light kiss on her throat, rubbing my lips down, down until her sweater stopped me. I wished I could unwrap her like a present. "Kiss me," she demanded softly. There was nothing I'd want more, but I wanted her to burn for me, the way I was burning for her. I craved it. After all the dark thoughts in my head, I needed her to show me how much she wanted me. To soothe, to reassure, to cast away my demons. I never needed it from anyone before, never asked for it. From her, I needed it. And maybe it was a fight I was bound to lose, maybe it was reckless of me, but I couldn't stop wanting it. Look for a way to get it. Only Kara could give it to me. No one else. I wanted no one else. "Later," I said. I could hear the rasp in my voice, the thickness of it, wondered if she understood it. Her eyes flew open. "What?" I sucked my bottom lip in my mouth, dropping the car seat lower. Folding my hands beneath my head, I closed my eyes and forced myself to appear relaxed. Inside I was burning. *** She ignored me the whole ride to campus. She tried to front a good poker face, but she wasn't succeeding. Her eyes flashed, filled with annoyance, desire...and excitement. Practically vibrating. Somehow, I knew she enjoyed this. I could almost hear the gears in her head turning. Clicking away at the plan she had for me—her revenge. She was a woman who didn't let me get away with anything. It excited me. And scared me a little. Last time I pissed her off she'd splashed dirty, muddy water on my face. What would she do this time? The rain had stopped by the time she parked. The loud bang of her driver's side door echoed in the parking lot as she slammed it closed. She walked ahead of me, wouldn't even turn her head. I had to suppress my smile. "You gonna talk to me?" She kept walking. I bit into my knuckle, imagining biting her bottom lip instead. "Hey, Kara!" She turned. "Hey, Lockhart!" she beamed. Why the hell was she beaming? Caleb jogged next to her, chatting away like a magpie. Then she laughed at something he said. No fucking way.